A Big Fat Greek and Armenian Wedding

A day or so after the following story happened Robby asked me about blogging it. I told him I felt too dumb about it. That was true, but it also shook me up pretty good and my nerves were still settling. A couple weeks out and I’m back to my normal levels of feeling dumb and ready to share. I'm being really bad about getting pics, but I'll really try.

At the end of June, we attended the wedding of our friends Levon and Rashelle. We were so excited to attend because it was going to be at the Greek Orthodox Church downtown and the reception was going to be a real party. The wedding ceremony was beautiful and traditional.

After the ceremony we headed down to the reception at the Greek Market. Upon arrival the tables were set with bottles of wine and lots of appetizers including hummus, pita, yogurt dip, tasty phyllo pastry squares, dolmades and more. It was awesome and I didn’t hold back because my mistake is always not eating enough when I’m getting my drink on. And drinking was my plan.

The music and dancing began. The drinking continued which means I started dancing. There was some traditional Greek and/or Armenian music being played so there was lots of dances where the women held hands and kicked their legs. I was feeling all full of myself in my cute new dress (I'm sure someone has pictures...I'm brilliant and didn't bring a camera) and strappy sandals and cute earrings (thanks Brianne!) dancing the night away. Our friend Julie and I really got into a couple traditional dances with a lot of clapping each others hands and doing turns and such. It was super fun. And it was super fun until I sat down to take a rest and ran finger across my ring, looked down because something didn’t feel right and saw two black holes where diamonds used to be. The fun abruptly came to a crashing halt. This is the ring my Grandmother wore probably every day for 60 years. This is the ring my family gave to me when my Grandmother passed in January. This is my Grandmother’s wedding ring.

Panic rapidly set in and partly because I didn’t want to cause a stink at someone’s wedding, but I desperately needed to look for them. It was dark and the carpet is casino-like. Not good conditions. Needless to say Robby and I started searching the floor around our table. He quickly found the smaller of the two stones and I ran to the bathroom because I had just washed my hands. Nothing. I looked around the edge of the dance floor and luckily found the larger stone. Whew, I was so relieved. We ended the night and headed home. Disaster averted. How lucky am I? I’m golden.

When we got home I told my mom what happened and showed her the ring and stones. She said she didn’t think the smaller stone looked large enough. I poo-pooed her because that’s what I do and went to bed. The next day I took out the ring and tried to set the stones in the ring. The larger stone sat perfectly in place. The smaller stone fell straight through the setting. Not even close. It was clearly not the right stone. And on closer inspection I’m thinking this is a decorative rhinestone off someone’s dress. What are the chances of needing to find a diamond and finding something that looks just like a diamond under your dinner table? Not so golden anymore.

I call the reception hall knowing they would be closed on Sunday, but I had to try. The message said they’d be closed from June 30th to July 21st for renovation and in case of emergency to call such and such number. My heart sank. I called the emergency number and left my plea for help on voicemail. I called the groom and he said the owner actually left to go to Canada for a month! Seriously Canada and a renovation? Oh hell.

I FINALLY got in touch with the owner on the emergency line and he said I could meet his wife at the store the next day when she was letting the carpet cleaners in. I thought Canada was bad news, but carpet cleaners are really bad news. Waiting for the next day was one of the worst 24 hours of my life! I restlessly slept and dreamt about how I would search, going through strategies and wondering if I’d lost the diamond forever. I was beating myself up for wearing the ring in the first place. What was I thinking?

We got to the market as the cleaners were setting up. They were walking all through the area, dragging hoses, cords and equipment. Exactly what you don’t want to see when you’re on hands and knees hunting with flashlights for a diamond. I was searching in the area where I found the first diamond, but wasn’t having any luck until I found another one of those damn rhinestones! Who the hell wore the rhinestones?! Robby was looking where we were first seated, but nothing. He walked over to me and looked down and there behind me, between the vacuum hose and extension cords running across the floor he spotted the second stone. I was so panicked about finding it that I just couldn’t believe it. Not after finding another of those rhinestones. I needed verification. So I went to get the ring out of my purse to verify this was the real deal and place it in the setting. I can’t find the ring. Where’s the ring? I JUST HAD THE F-ING RING!! I cannot believe I've lost the entire ring! Robby says “ummmm…it’s on your finger.” Oh for Christ’s sake. I dropped the diamond into the hole and it fit. To say I was relieved is an understatement. I know this will sound dramatic, but try to imagine me being dramatic, okay? I really felt like I could now have my life back. It was being held hostage in the Greek Market on 33rd South and State.

Turns out I was all about losing things the night of Levon and Rashelle’s wedding. I also lost my prescription sunglasses that night. When we were at the market I asked the owner if she’d seen them. She said she hadn’t. I didn’t press the issue or even really look around because I felt my luck had run it’s course. I went to Costco this weekend and ordered some new sunglasses. It’s been hell the last couple weeks without them and it cost me $100 to replace them, but it’s a price I happily paid for being one lucky, lucky girl.